And so it is Christmas...
Posted 12-24-2011 at 09:53 AM by SCGranny
Christmas Eve...
Every creature is stirring. The cows are moving up the hill under the horse's watchful eye. The barn cats are pouncing on anything that moves, including their own and their relatives' tails. The herd dog is wandering back and forth between me and DH, looking for breakfast scraps. The chickens are arguing, clucking and crowing, which they do from sunup to sundown. The sun is shining, there is very little snow left after Wednesday's little offering. Yesterday we had steak, eggs, potatoes, whole wheat bread for breakfast - everything grown and/or made here. Today, just a scrambled egg for breakfast... last night's supper of fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, hush puppies, and green beans - again, all from right here - was more than sufficient. Tomorrow's Christmas ham (from a neighbor - we have no pigsty), devilled eggs, rolls, pumpkin and apple pies - all from here again.
We are expecting no one this year again. No one. Not a child, not an adult. But we are happy, not depressed as so many are this time of year who find themselves alone. We live too far away, off the beaten path, to attract reveling family members, intent on sharing and caring and noise and mayhem; the ooohs and ahhhs and paper ripping, the loud voices, the running to and fro, the hysterical actions of folks determined to have a good time, no matter what. We are spared again this year.
Friends and relatives send me little Christmas letters and emails. They are jobless, they are broke, they are fearful of not providing a good Christmas to their families, afraid of letting down their children, worried about what the New Year will - and won't - bring them. I guess I do pity them - in a way. These were the same folks who, a handful of years ago, were telling me that they were great, they were wonderful, actually; that they didn't see any reason to prepare for anything, all was well. These were the ones who accused me of being a tinfoil-hat-wearing Conspiracy Theorist when I suggested that it might be a good idea to stock up, stash away, figure out how they could buy items that regenerated, like living food, wood for their fireplaces, even seeds for their gardens. No need. They're fine.
I tried to tell them that - no matter what the hysterical preppers' and survivalists' passions were - if one owned property, live animals, and heirloom seeds to produce a repetitive food supply, they would be better off no matter what happened. Last spring, I even offered some a buy-in on half of one of my steers to be butchered in the fall, or half of a large pig of one of my neighbors', to fill their freezers for the coming winter. They declined; no need, they were fine. Now they are suddenly living hand to mouth and paycheck to paycheck, and paying twice, even 5 times their limited cash for even smaller portions of food than what they would have if they had bought in last spring. Oh, well. My freezer's full, and canning jars line shelf after shelf, full of good and wholesome food, just waiting for the spoon.
Ants and grasshoppers. The only things that are certain are death, taxes - and change.
In April, the 125 fruit and nut trees I bought from the co-op will come in. In 3 years I will be self-sufficient in fruit. In March I take a University beekeeping course and will buy my first bees. In three years I will also have my own honey supply, garnered off of my vegetables and fruit trees, while the manure that the cows and chickens produce fertilizes those vegetables and trees, providing them with their own sustenance. It is a whole-earth, renewable concept - life feeding life. Even if nothing ever collapses, even if the world and everyone in it slogs along and through and survives, there will be bounty here, wrested from the earth by my own and DH's hands.
Yes, we have a lot to be thankful for, in our quiet life, our Christmas silence, apart and away from all of the frenetic bustle and hysterical purchasing of those who seek to satisfy their souls with still more possessions that cannot feed, clothe, or house them. Still looking for happiness in the possession of things - things with built-in obsolescence, things that next year will be broken, forgotten, out-of-date, or even sold for things that matter.
Billee Jean is mooing on the hill. Is it a Christmas carol? No. Billee Jean just likes to talk, make comments, secure in her comfortable, well-fed, and productive status as Momcow. The sun is shining on her thick black curly coat as she lays down for her noontime nap.
Comfortable. Well-fed. Productive. Secure. What else is there? And what better way to celebrate Christmas? Who needs shiny-new presents wrapped in gaudy paper, bought with money that is quickly sucked away, when you can have presence of mind and a wealth of spirit?
Merry Christmas to all... and to all, a better tomorrow.
Every creature is stirring. The cows are moving up the hill under the horse's watchful eye. The barn cats are pouncing on anything that moves, including their own and their relatives' tails. The herd dog is wandering back and forth between me and DH, looking for breakfast scraps. The chickens are arguing, clucking and crowing, which they do from sunup to sundown. The sun is shining, there is very little snow left after Wednesday's little offering. Yesterday we had steak, eggs, potatoes, whole wheat bread for breakfast - everything grown and/or made here. Today, just a scrambled egg for breakfast... last night's supper of fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, hush puppies, and green beans - again, all from right here - was more than sufficient. Tomorrow's Christmas ham (from a neighbor - we have no pigsty), devilled eggs, rolls, pumpkin and apple pies - all from here again.
We are expecting no one this year again. No one. Not a child, not an adult. But we are happy, not depressed as so many are this time of year who find themselves alone. We live too far away, off the beaten path, to attract reveling family members, intent on sharing and caring and noise and mayhem; the ooohs and ahhhs and paper ripping, the loud voices, the running to and fro, the hysterical actions of folks determined to have a good time, no matter what. We are spared again this year.
Friends and relatives send me little Christmas letters and emails. They are jobless, they are broke, they are fearful of not providing a good Christmas to their families, afraid of letting down their children, worried about what the New Year will - and won't - bring them. I guess I do pity them - in a way. These were the same folks who, a handful of years ago, were telling me that they were great, they were wonderful, actually; that they didn't see any reason to prepare for anything, all was well. These were the ones who accused me of being a tinfoil-hat-wearing Conspiracy Theorist when I suggested that it might be a good idea to stock up, stash away, figure out how they could buy items that regenerated, like living food, wood for their fireplaces, even seeds for their gardens. No need. They're fine.
I tried to tell them that - no matter what the hysterical preppers' and survivalists' passions were - if one owned property, live animals, and heirloom seeds to produce a repetitive food supply, they would be better off no matter what happened. Last spring, I even offered some a buy-in on half of one of my steers to be butchered in the fall, or half of a large pig of one of my neighbors', to fill their freezers for the coming winter. They declined; no need, they were fine. Now they are suddenly living hand to mouth and paycheck to paycheck, and paying twice, even 5 times their limited cash for even smaller portions of food than what they would have if they had bought in last spring. Oh, well. My freezer's full, and canning jars line shelf after shelf, full of good and wholesome food, just waiting for the spoon.
Ants and grasshoppers. The only things that are certain are death, taxes - and change.
In April, the 125 fruit and nut trees I bought from the co-op will come in. In 3 years I will be self-sufficient in fruit. In March I take a University beekeeping course and will buy my first bees. In three years I will also have my own honey supply, garnered off of my vegetables and fruit trees, while the manure that the cows and chickens produce fertilizes those vegetables and trees, providing them with their own sustenance. It is a whole-earth, renewable concept - life feeding life. Even if nothing ever collapses, even if the world and everyone in it slogs along and through and survives, there will be bounty here, wrested from the earth by my own and DH's hands.
Yes, we have a lot to be thankful for, in our quiet life, our Christmas silence, apart and away from all of the frenetic bustle and hysterical purchasing of those who seek to satisfy their souls with still more possessions that cannot feed, clothe, or house them. Still looking for happiness in the possession of things - things with built-in obsolescence, things that next year will be broken, forgotten, out-of-date, or even sold for things that matter.
Billee Jean is mooing on the hill. Is it a Christmas carol? No. Billee Jean just likes to talk, make comments, secure in her comfortable, well-fed, and productive status as Momcow. The sun is shining on her thick black curly coat as she lays down for her noontime nap.
Comfortable. Well-fed. Productive. Secure. What else is there? And what better way to celebrate Christmas? Who needs shiny-new presents wrapped in gaudy paper, bought with money that is quickly sucked away, when you can have presence of mind and a wealth of spirit?
Merry Christmas to all... and to all, a better tomorrow.
Total Comments 1
Comments
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Why are you so smart?? =D
'Love these words of yours.Posted 01-10-2012 at 03:01 PM by roots'nbulbs
